


Dear Forgiveness

by yuji2000



Category: Gintama
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Mitsuba Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 00:32:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18905854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuji2000/pseuds/yuji2000
Summary: The smell of smoke always lingers around Hijikata, but these days, it's heavier.





	Dear Forgiveness

_"Every morning the maple leaves._

  _Every morning another chapter where the hero shifts_

 

_from one foot to the other. Every morning the same big_

_and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out_

_You will be alone always and then you will die._

_So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog_

_of non-definitive acts,_

_something other than the desperation._

_Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party._

_Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party_

_and seduced you_

_and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing."_  

* * *

Hijikata Toushiro rolled over in his bed. The sunlight crept in through the gaps in the curtains, with such a ferocity that he could feel a mild sunburn incoming on a narrow strip of his skin. He sat up and lifted up the curtains. The sun was just beginning to rise; it could be no more than 5 or 6 in the morning. The Shinsengumi headquarters were still quiet at this hour. The sky was dyed cotton candy pink in one corner, soft orange in another, a wonderful lavender in the other. It was beautiful, this much he knew.

He had slept late the night before, and the night before that, only to wake early to see the break of dawn. Yet he was not exhausted. Or at least, he didn't think he was. It was no use going back to bed, so he rose, dressed, drew the curtains, wiped his face, and exited the room.

Kondo was the only one awake at this hour. He might have been too soft hearted for his own good, but he did try to be an effective leader. He was early to rise to greet the others.

"Toshi! You're up! Sorry that breakfast isn't made yet."

Hijikata shook his head. "No, it's alright. I'm going out to eat."

Kondo cracked a smile, the worry still evident in his mild hesitation. "Is that so? Well, just make sure you do."

Kondo walked away, into another part of headquarters. Hijikata heard a creak behind him. A shorter figure limped down the hallway and made his way past him. Sougo. He didn't spare Hijikata a second of recognition, though he wasn't trying to be rude, he was just having a hard time, and goddamnit, it's Sougo who lost someone important and not him, what right did he have to mourn a woman he rejected, maybe Sougo hated him for real-

He would've called out to Sougo, but he had a hunch that wouldn't be well received.

Hijikata stood in the hallway for a few minutes, motionless. Sougo returned to his room and neither looked at each other. He took out a cigarette and lit it. Inhaling the smoke, he felt his shoulders drop and chest unwind. 

* * *

For a police officer, the rest of the day could only be summarised as complete boredom. For once, it seemed that Edo was quiet. All crime had stopped to pay respects to the lost Mitsuba. But of course, this was an illusion. Things were louder than ever. Thieves continued to thieve, gunmen to shoot, and murderers to kill. Traitors wreaked havoc on all levels of society and civilians continued to stream into the Shinsengumi's office with requests and complaints, and most of all, questions. Reporters and journalists crowded around Kondo and Hijikata wherever they could be seen. (As for Sougo, for his own sake, Kondo had allowed him to stay indoors.) But the blinding lights of camera shutters going off and of inane questions being repeated and repeated induced a special numbness in Hijikata's being. 

He often found himself staring frozen at some point in the distance these days. He was doing it again now, outside a small dango shop. Yamazaki walked out of the shop with a box full of them in hand. He gazed at Hijikata, cigarette still in his mouth, unmoving.

"Are you okay?" Yamazaki asked.

"I'm thinking," he replied.

He wasn't. He couldn't think if he tried. His mind was somewhere else, replaying the battle with her fiance for him to watch. Hijikata was so sure of his own death then, bleeding from the gunshot wound in his leg, in the pouring rain. He watched himself in third person, crawling like a wretched worm on the asphalt. 

A young girl's laughter brought him back to the present. He cocked his head to see a familiar redhead in her crimson qipao run down the street. Kagura was being chased by Shinpachi, clutching something in her right fist. Shinpachi, weighed down by a large plastic grocery bag, struggled to pace her.

"Kagura! Give that back!"

"Catch me then! I'm gonna buy dango!"

"You can't! It's the last of our money for this week! Gin-san's gonna be pissed!"

"He won't be if we share it with him."

"That's not the point! Oh, and you missed the dango shop."

Kagura stopped in her tracks and turned around. "Thanks!" She ran back towards the shop until Shinpachi caught her by the waist.

"I said give it back!"

The girl elbowed him in the face. As Shinpachi lay on the sidewalk collecting himself, she walked up to the entrance of the shop, but paused at seeing the two officers.

"Oh, it's the mayonnaise maniac."

"Hijikata," he said bitterly. "My name is Hijikata, brat."

"Hey Officer Nicotine, is the chihuahua okay?"

"That's not my- Chihuahua? You mean, Sougo?"

Kagura nodded. Hijikata puffed his cigarette. "Yeah, he's doing fine."

"I see. Well, see you guys around." She walked in and bought her dango, as Shinpachi rushed in, powerless to stop.

* * *

_"For a while I thought I was the dragon._

 

_I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was_

_the princess,_

_cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle,_

_young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with_

_confidence_

_but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess,_

_while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire,_

_and getting stabbed to death._

_Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal._

_You still get to be the hero._

_You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights!_

_What more do you want?_

_I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re_

_really there._

_Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?"_

* * *

It was chilly late that evening. Still, his uniform was plenty warm enough. Without saying goodbye or telling anyone where he was going, Hijikata walked out of headquarters and settled in a little portable oden shop.

He was half expecting to see Gintoki's face, and there the albino was, scratching the nape of his neck whilst enjoying a shot of sake. (Whether Hijikata was hoping to see him was indeterminate.)

"Oh, helloooo, officer," he said mockingly.

"Evening," Hijikata grumbled. He gave his order to the chef.

"Nothing like some oden and some sake to warm up on a night like this, huh?"

"Yeah."

As his meal was promptly made, Hijikata quickly ate, but even quicker drank. Gintoki was usually the heavier drinker out of the two of them, but Hijikata was having his cup refilled almost twice as fast. On this night, the alcohol didn't seem to make talking between them easier. Gintoki tried to get him to talk about everything, or just anything at all - the weather, the news, the latest movies or TV shows, the most inane gossip, how the Shinsengumi were doing - but Hijikata merely grunted or gave one word replies. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk, if he didn't, he wouldn't have left headquarters late at night, but that he couldn't. And the more he drank, the less responsive he was getting.

"Yorozuya," Hijikata said.

"Hmm?"

"I saw glasses boy and the ginger odango haired girl on the street today, bickering over how broke you were. What are you doing eating out here?"

"Awww, don't you know, officer," Gintoki said with a cheeky grin, "It's all on my tab!"

The chef slapped the back of Gintoki's head.

Hijikata sighed, and lifted his head. "I'll pay."

"You don't need to do that." The white haired man blinked and then squinted suspiciously at him. "You don't usually do things like that."

Hijikata paused, then cleared his throat. "I wanted to do something nice for someone."

"And why me?" Gintoki's voice was more serious this time. "I wasn't affected by everything that happened. Shouldn't you do it towards-"

"Shopkeep, here." He handed his money to the chef before Gintoki could complain, then turned back to face him. "It's my treat. Do make it safe back home at this hour, Yorozuya."

Hijikata turned to leave as Gintoki grabbed his hand. "Wait. Let's... Go on a walk."

Hijikata sighed.

* * *

  _"Hello darling, sorry about that._

_Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we_

_lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell_

_and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud._

_Especially that, but I should have known._  
_..._

_I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version you are not_

_feeding yourself to a bad man_

_against a black sky prickled with small lights."_

* * *

The park was oddly picturesque at night. The harsh lamplights illuminated the metal fences and railings of the benches, the edges of grass and the sidewalk, the sides of trees. Above, the half-moon smiled pleasantly, it's silver glow matching that of it's man made children. Hijikata's face and chest were still burning from the afterglow of alcohol, but his fingers grew cold. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to keep them moving.

"Are you cold?"

Hijikata shook his head. "No. I'm fine."

Gintoki smiled. "As expected. Even if you were, they say idiots can't catch cold."

Hijikata snarled at him and took a cigarette out, lighting it and inhaling.

"That's a bad habit, you know. One day you'll catch lung cancer."

"Well, Yorozuya, I think you'll die first of diabetes."

"Oi, when you get old, you'll get metabolic syndrome from your mayonnaise addiction. Then along with lung cancer, you'll die first."

"Nuh uh! You'll also get metabolic syndrome from your parfait addiction!" Hijikata took another puff. "Or maybe I'll finally kill you when you annoy me enough."

Gintoki laughed. "Back at you."

The two sat down on a park bench, and gazed at the horizon. The light on Hijikata's cigarette faded, and he reached into his pocket for another one. He put it to his lips when Gintoki leaned in uncomfortably close and took it out his mouth.

"Hey, what are you-!"

"Tell me what you really wanted to say, Nicotine. No distractions, come on."

Hijikata gritted his teeth. How he cursed Gintoki's ability to read people so well. He closed his eyes and tried to formulate the words in his head.

Nothing. There was nothing.

"I don't know what I was going to say."

"You forgot it."

"No, as in, I don't know what to say."

Gintoki gazed at him as he hunched over.

"You can cry and I won't tell anyone. I have more than enough blackmail information on you anyway."

"I was not going to cry, Yorozuya."

He heard Gintoki sigh, and then the familiar click of a lighter. Hijikata turned back up to see Gintoki lighting the cigarette he had stolen. He inhaled, then promptly removed the cigarette from his mouth and coughed and sputtered. "God, I don't know how you do this. This is awful."

Hijikata smiled. For some reason, this amused him. It would've made him laugh had he not been so tired and subdued from alcohol. And if the incident with Mitsuba-

His smile disappeared. He gazed past Gintoki, his eyesight losing focus, as the memories flooded his mind. Crawling on the ground, in pain, dying, filled with regret and I'm sorrys.

"Hijikata. Hijikata!"

Gintoki's face was in focus again as the images left his brain.

"Had too much to drink?"

"I'm empty," the black haired man blurted out, then corrected himself. "I'm fine."

Gintoki held his breath, then exhaled. He looked down and to the side, then back at Hijikata. "It wasn't your fault. I'm sure she'd say it wasn't either."

Hijikata bowed his head and reached into his pockets. He pulled out his packet of cigarettes. It was empty.

"I'm going back to buy more."

"Alright. I'll get back home too."

The two stood up and walked in the same direction.

"You know," Gintoki began. "Losing someone is a lot like having a wound. Something's been ripped out of you, but eventually the missing pieces are filled in and healed without you noticing. It never feels the same but your body still functions. Life goes on, as horribly as it always does."

Hijikata thought silently about the ever mounting requests and complaints the Shinsengumi got, and of all the thieves and murderers and traitors and terrorists and delinquents that had to be caught, no matter if he was in the mood for it or not. Then he thought of the day he turned down Mitsuba's confession, knowing this is the life he had signed himself up to, a life where she could not follow. A life of running after thieves and murderers and traitors and terrorists and delinquents, a thankless job where people sneered at you and you made mistakes that would never end, that required you to leave behind any pretense of normality. By most people's standards, Hijikata was alone, removed from the usual narrative of being able to marry and have children and integrate into civilian life, and so he would forever be alone. And because a woman who couldn't follow him fell in love with him, he had led her into loneliness too.

"But yes, it's empty during then. And it's a pain in the ass."

He thought of how no matter how much Sougo hated him, he still hadn't actually killed him or left the Shinsengumi, and how they had signed themselves into the same sort of life. For the crime of being alone, he felt a subtle forgiveness from the men that were alone with him. 

"It's just my opinion, but the prettiest artworks start with an empty canvas."

They both looked up at the sky, now pitch black, bar the half-moon shining.

"Goodnight, Hijikata."

"Goodnight, Yorozuya." Hijikata nodded as their paths diverged and he walked towards headquarters.

* * *

Hijikata awoke early the next day. The sky was a tranquil cascade of pastels and oranges again.

With nothing to do whilst breakfast was being prepared, he reached into his pockets and realised he had forgotten to buy cigarettes last night.

* * *

_"Here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all_

_forgiven,_

_even though we didn’t deserve it."_

_\- "Litany in Which Certain Things are Omitted", Richard Siken_

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Comfort of Silence](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930535) by [deargodwhatisthatthing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deargodwhatisthatthing/pseuds/deargodwhatisthatthing)




End file.
